


Giggles and Wriggles

by WritingQuill



Series: (30) Days of Johnlock [28]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Established Relationship, Fluff, Giggling, JUST FLUFF REALLY, Kissing, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-28
Updated: 2013-04-28
Packaged: 2017-12-09 20:57:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/777909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingQuill/pseuds/WritingQuill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day twenty-eight: doing something ridiculous </p><p>John had a particularly bad encounter with Harry, and is really sad afterwards. Sherlock is worried, but has an idea to bring John out of his blues. Fluff ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Giggles and Wriggles

When Sherlock heard the door to 221 slam shut downstairs, he knew the lunch meeting between John and Harriet had not gone well. It happened every time they, so Sherlock had no idea why John bothered with her anymore. She was loud, obnoxious and clearly had no respect for John’s efforts. Sherlock sighed as he listened to John climb the stairs with a stomp. This was not going to be pretty. 

John opened the door quietly, put his coat on the hanger and, without a word to Sherlock, went to the bedroom. Odd. 

Normally John would open the door and start ranting, rambling on and on about Harriet’s drinking, her poor life choices, why he ever even bothered to help her anyway — at which point Sherlock would always snort. When the rant was finished, he would make himself and Sherlock a cup of tea, and finally rest on his armchair with a resigned frown on his brow until Sherlock got up, walked towards him and coaxed a smile out of his face with kisses. Today was different. Sherlock did not like it. 

So he got up and followed John into the bedroom they’d been sharing for the past fourteen months. The door was shut, but as a rule privacy was not something that ranked high in 221b. Sherlock turned the doorknob and pushed the door open slowly, quietly entering the room and taking in his surroundings. 

‘John?’ he asked. John was lying on his side of the bed, back turned to Sherlock, curled into a tiny ball. Sherlock felt a pang in his chest, and walked in his direction, sat on the edge of the bed and stared at his hands, unsure of how to proceed. ‘John, what happened?’ 

John simply shook his head. He looked so impossibly small, all Sherlock wanted to do was wrap him in a tight hug and never let go. He placed a careful hand on John’s shoulder instead. 

‘John…’ 

‘I don’t want to talk about it, Sherlock,’ John snapped, turning his face towards Sherlock, who gasped. John’s eyes were swollen and blood-shot, the tip of his nose was red and his cheeks, moist. He’d been crying. John never cried. John was the stoic one. What had that horrible woman said to him? 

‘But you’re sad. You can… tell me, if there’s anything bothering you. It was obviously something Harriet—‘

‘Sherlock, please,’ John pleaded, shutting his eyes with a passive sort of anguish. This was all sorts of Not Good. 

‘Fine, you don’t need to talk about it. Just… I don’t like seeing you sad, John,’ Sherlock said. ‘What can I do?’ 

A small smile curled around the corners of John’s lips and he held Sherlock’s hand in his. ‘Knowing you’re here helps a bit,’ he told Sherlock simply. Sherlock nodded and moved over to lie next to John on the bed, wrapping himself all around his tired-looking blogger. John sighed against him and went pliant. Sherlock loved a pliant John, he was always the perfect source of warmth and comfort. Except today Sherlock himself was supposed to provide both things, and he didn’t really know what to do. 

Out of the corners of his Mind Palace, though, an image arrive to the forefront of his mind. Something he did to John a few months ago during foreplay, which got a delicious little giggle from his partner. If he did that again, maybe… 

Sherlock brought his hand to John’s waist and squeezed. John yelped. 

‘What was that?’ he asked, exasperated. Sherlock shrugged. 

‘Tickle.’ 

‘Tickle?’ 

As an answer, Sherlock repeated the motion, then wriggled his fingers over the skin under John’s jumper, and John giggled again. That lovely sound that never failed to make Sherlock’s metaphorical heart flutter. He kept tickling John, getting giggles and laughter and those delightful snorts. Then John got a hold of his hands and turned to face him. 

‘Your turn,’ he said, in a faux-menacing tone. Sherlock raised an eyebrow. 

‘John, I’m sure I’m not—‘ but he was stopped by John’s fingers tickling his middle. It was the oddest feeling, like an itch but pleasant. Well, not pleasant, but… funny. Inexplicable. And then he giggled. Sherlock Holmes actually giggled. John laughed hard at that, which made Sherlock try harder to tickle him back. 

It was nearly a wrestling match now, but of cuddles and snuggles and tickles. The bed linens were all over the place, and John was already out of his jumper. He lifted Sherlock’s T-shirt and blew a raspberry at the soft skin of his stomach, which made Sherlock yelp loudly and grab John’s foot so he could fill it with tickles. John was incredibly foot-sensitive. 

Over half an hour passed by the time they fell back on the bed, gasping for air and sporting giant grins. Sherlock couldn’t remember the last time he had had so much fun, his abdomen hurt from the laughter.

He felt John’s hand on his and turned to face him. John was smiling. 

‘Thank you,’ John said. ‘I love you.’ 

Sherlock smiled fondly, and John rolled closer, pinning Sherlock down and pressing their lips together chastely, then sweetly. Their mouths moved together with comfort, simply exploring and re-discovering sweet spots. Sherlock could have stayed like that forever. 

He felt sweaty, though, and he realised that he hadn’t showered yet today. 

Sherlock pulled away slightly and smirked. 

‘What?’ John asked, the laughter still in his eyes. 

‘How about we continue this in the shower?’ he suggested with a quirk of an eyebrow. John chuckled. 

‘God, yes.’ 

When they returned to the bed forty minutes later, they were panting and grinning for an entirely different reason.

**Author's Note:**

> I spent the whole day studying so my brain is sort of spent, hence the mindless fluff. Let me know what you think yeah? 
> 
> Two days to go, folks. Exciting stuff. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, you're all awesome. 
> 
> Cheers x
> 
> P.S.: I'm planning a Coffeeshop AU for tomorrow -- how about that, eh?


End file.
